


When the Levee Breaks

by UptheBoards



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dallas Stars, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 16:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UptheBoards/pseuds/UptheBoards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As per usual, all mistakes are my own and I don't own/represent any of these gents.</p>
    </blockquote>





	When the Levee Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, all mistakes are my own and I don't own/represent any of these gents.

It’s not that James doesn’t like to shop for clothing, it’s that he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t want to dress like the typical 22-year-old college frat boy, that’s a guaranteed razzing by the guys. He tries on suit after suit and that usually results in James thinking he looks like a child playing dress-up. He can’t find the middle ground. It’s better than the last time he did this, his shoulders and back are broader, his frame has started to bulk up with lean muscle and he’s even grown a few inches. James wishes Brad had come along, he usually does, he’s good at these things. Brad is almost always impeccably dressed, which is a pretty big accomplishment for a hockey player. The veteran centre had already imparted a lot of knowledge onto James, but his fashion advice just hadn’t stuck.

James returns to Brad’s house with a pair of jeans, a plain white tee and a new hat – a successful trip by James’ standards. Sure it had taken all morning, but what else is there to do, they're still about a month out from training camp in September. He shucks off his shoes before going into the living room where he bets Brad is probably catching up on the Bachelor, it’s their dirty secret. The TV is dark and the throw pillows are actually still arranged neatly on the couch. “Richie?” James calls out, wondering if he might have the house to himself for a while. He’s greeted with silence. He moves into the kitchen, setting down the shopping bags on he counter and immediately hits the fridge. In terms of things you do when you’re home alone, this is beyond vanilla, but James knows how mad it would make Brad if he found out. They follow a pretty strict diet 6/7 days a week and even the cheat day is a “Cheat with moderation” day in reality. James grabs a beer and twists off the cap, flinging it into the sink with a slick flick of his wrist. Good starting point. He takes a long pull, savoring the taste even if it is just Molson.

As he starts to makes his way back to the living room but movement in the backyard catches his eye and he goes to the sliding door instead. The barbeque seems to be on . . . and smoking. James starts to panic a bit, fuck, they’d grilled last night so that meant the thing had stayed on all night and most of the day. He hesitates for a breath, there has to be something about propane exploding, before he slides out into the midday Dallas heat. He is across the deck in a few quick strides, and throws open the barbeque lid, fanning the smoke with his free hand. Steaks. 

Then James hears the laughter and someone calls out, “Hey rookie, back away from the grill, I’m the master here!” James snaps around to face his audience.

The scene is straight from the pages of a Sears summer catalogue: Brenden and Brad are lounging in the sun, sitting behind a lavish spread on the glass deck table. They’re wearing identical white, wide smiles. “Ugh,” James groans and turns his back to them. They start to laugh again. “You can turn mine Kid, I like it a little red,” Brenden chirps. He shuts the lid, a little roughly and shuffles over to the table, though he really wishes it would have been socially acceptable to just go back inside. 

“Fuck, sorry,” James mumbles and slumps down into the chair nearest him, though he immediately realizes it was a bad choice, he’s across from both of the older men, but also in between them so that they form a loose triangle. They really could be in a catalogue, perfectly tousled hair on both, bronzed skin and shining eyes. Both seem to be dressed well for the occasion too, each choosing a button up, with the sleeves rolled, Brenden’s is white and blue plaid, and Brad’s is a steely gray.

“Well, at least if the steaks turn out like shit we have someone other than Richie to blame,” Brenden flashes him a smile and lightly kicks his shin. “Offside!” Brad says, and launches a bottle cap that pings off Brenden’s shoulder and lands softly in the grass.

“I’m a better cook than you and the Kid with my eyes closed,” Brad gestures towards the food already on the table in front of them, “Name the date and I’ll prove it.” That’s when James notices the empty bottles on the table as Brad’s hand brushes one of them and they clink together. There are more than a few, and is that a Tequila bottle?

Brenden shrugs, “Anytime, I’m not going to turn down a free meal.” He dips a celery stick into the serving dish next to him and swirls it before bringing it to his lips. He makes a show of sliding it into his mouth and James has to swallow. When did celery get so erotic? More importantly, when did Brenden?

Apparently he isn’t the only one, he hears Brad cough and he looks over. Brad is a little red, but still smiling, his eyes are locked on Brenden’s lips. James follows Brad’s gaze and he also notices the white speck of creamy dip that is decorating the corner of Brenden’s mouth. “You’ve got…” He starts to say but Brad is already leaning across, he steadies himself with a hand on Brenden’s thigh and swipes his thumb across the other man’s lip. Brad licks the pad of his finger, eyes never leaving Brenden’s. James can see Brenden’s chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly, he can feel his own breathing starting to do the same. Brenden has tilted his head up and his lips have parted slightly and that’s all Brad needs, he leans in and kisses the other man. It’s a filthy kiss, lazy and languid like the late afternoon heat and when they part, Brenden has to swipe a hand across his mouth.

“Not going to turn that down either,” Brenden says with a smug grin. Brad slowly sits back down but he’s even slower to remove his hand from Brenden’s leg. James can see the muscles in Brenden’s leg twitch underneath the tightly stretched fabric of his pants. James feels like he has intruded on something, Brad and Brenden are so comfortable, neither reacted like this was anything new or as if James was even there. He feels a pang of jealousy but swallows it down quickly with a sip of beer. It snaps the tension, and draws Brenden and Brad out of each other, but they both watch James instead. He takes another gulp self-consciously and chokes a little. He stares down the table, willing away the heat that’s rising up the back of his neck.

“Getting our rookie drunk, Richie?” Brenden scolds, “Not sure that’s really what we want to teach him.” Brad shifts a little and James squirms guiltily. He nervously busies himself by sliding his fingers around the rim of the bottle. “No, but he doesn’t always listen to me, likes to get me riled up.” Brad doesn’t say much and he certainly doesn’t mince words. 

James freezes briefly and then looks up, switching glances between the two veteran Stars, searching for a hint of something, a sign that this was joke. There isn’t one. “Fuck you Richie, no, I don’t.” He tries to keep his tone light, but James can tell it misses. He looks to Brad. The other man doesn’t react, just continues to study him with a furrowed brow. 

“Think we need to teach him something,” Brenden says to Brad, who nods in agreement. “Come here Kid,” Brenden and Brad share another glance before Brenden motions to their side of the table with an incline of his head. James doesn’t move but when Brenden snaps “Now,” he gets up and stands beside him. He’s sure it’s not solely due to Brenden’s tone because fuck, he’s an adult and he doesn’t have to do what anyone says. In the back of his mind there’s a little voice in the dark whispering about what’s going to happen.

Brenden gets up and moves around James, letting his hand slide along James’ back as goes and settles in front of Brad’s chair. He puts a knee up on the chair between Brad’s legs and leans forward as Brad does the same. They share another kiss, though it’s very different than before - they seem to be fighting for dominance this time. Each time Brenden pushes forward so does Brad, when Brad bites Brenden’s lip, Brenden licks across his teeth. James wants to look away, give them their privacy, but he can't force his eyes off the two men. Brenden draws up and pulls Brad out of the chair and into himself so that their bodies are flush. Brad slides a leg between Brenden's and grips his hips, forcing Brenden to rut against his thigh. Brenden doesn't seem to object and kisses down Brad's neck, sucking a bruise at his collarbone while Brad watches James over his shoulder.

His friends eventually separate and James is soon sandwiched between the two, Brad on his front and Brenden pressing from behind. He quickly loses track of who is doing what, its more than a little overwhelming with three big bodies colliding together. He allows the two older men to dictate the pace and push and pull at him, each demanding attention. When James pulls back from them both to take a breath, they crowd closer into his space, if that’s even possible, and kiss over his shoulder. James is sweating already and it’s not just from the weather. 

Through it all, he does notice that Brenden has loosed his belt and is pushing down his jeans and boxer briefs. “Shouldn’t we, you know, go inside?” James manages between moans. “Why?” Brad keens high in his throat when James’ cock catches on his own through the layers of fabric. “Are you shy Nealer?” Brenden adds, knowing the young winger is. “Fuck you,” James snarls and pushes back against Brenden, forcing distance between all three of them. “He was kidding Nealer, don’t be so sensitive,” Brad says, pulling James back into him, trying to diffuse the situation as he normally does. He twists a bit when he feels Brenden’s heat return against his back and his hands lightly working across his lower back to rest on his hips. “I’m sorry, Kid, I know that gets you,” He says leaning in and over so that they can see eye to eye. These are the two men he knows, both soft and comforting, wrapping themselves around him, protecting him. James nods and lets himself melt into their touch, Brad rubs his hands up and down James arms and chest, while Brenden nuzzles against the crook of his neck and licks a strip from the base to the sensitive spot behind his ear. Brenden kisses him lightly when James moves so that the angle is right. “Do you want to do this?” He asks quietly, never breaking eye contact. “Yes,” James says, a little breathless, but without hesitation. He doesn’t know exactly what this is, but there is no fucking way he is saying anything but yes, please, more now.

Despite the beating sun, James shivers when he loses the heat at his back and he turns to watch Brenden disappear into the house. “You can say no, you don’t have to do this,” Brad says once they’re alone. He searches James’ face unable to keep the concern off his own. “I’m good,” James says simply. He can prove that he can hang with big boys. Brad threads a hand in his hair and brings them together for a kiss, taking the time to explore James mouth. James can taste the mix of beer and tequila, how long had the two older Stars been at this. . .

“What did I tell you about white linen Mo?” Brad chides when the other man comes back outside. Brenden looks down, sure enough there’s a very visible wet spot on the front his pants. Granted he’d set himself up by not only buying a size smaller, but by also choosing to go commando underneath. He shrugs, “You didn’t warn me it’d be this fucking hot.” Brad and James laugh lightly, the double entendre not missing them. “I still look better than you,” Brenden says and wraps his arms around Brad, pulling the centre’s shirt open, separating button from fabric. “Seriously?” Brad grouses while James undoes the last button remaining so he can slide the shirt off his arms. James takes his own plain gray tee off as well. Brenden bites Brad’s neck as a response, while James works Brad’s dark jeans and boxer briefs off and pushes them down his thighs, fingers massaging the tense muscles as he goes. “Suck his cock,” Brenden instructs when James hesitates. Brenden is already roughly stroking Brad, working him to full hardness. James’ brows knit together in confusion as he tries to think through the strange situation. He doesn’t understand how they can be so nonchalant about this. How many threesomes had these two orchestrated? He tries not to flick through the list of other rookies on their team.

James eventually does as he’s told and kneels down before taking Brad’s cock fully into his mouth, he stops when his mouth hits Brenden hand. It’s Brad that pushes Brenden away so James can take the extra inch. “Fuck,” he moans, head thrown back when he does just that. Brenden moves that hand to Brad’s head and instead massages his scalp and when they sway a bit, his other comes around the centre’s waist so he can hold them steady. James grips onto Brad’s thigh with one hand, and he uses the other to finger his balls and perineum, teasing the sensitive flesh. James alternates between deep throating Brad’s cock and just taking the head into his mouth, listening for which causes a better reaction. Both seem to work, Brad isn’t even trying to hold back the desperate keens that claw from his throat.

Nobody noticed, but Brenden has changed position and is now crowding in behind James, making the young winger feel even smaller in the tight space. He takes a firm hold in James’ hair and uses it to keep him still while Brad fucks into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat each time. James chokes a bit, but doesn’t pull off. He instead grinds his palm down on his own groin, eager for some friction. “Stop,” Brenden says abruptly and roughly pushes James back. “The fuck,” James grumbles and sits back on his heels, glaring up at them both. “He’s going to come,” Brenden provides and he’s pushing Brad down. “So?” James retorts, “Isn’t that the point?” 

“Stop it,” Brad says, interrupting them before anything further develops as he sits down on the deck. “Take your clothes off Nealer,” he adds. James slides his jeans and underwear off, adding them to the various items of clothing already littering the deck. He straddles Brad, positioning himself so that when they grind together, Brad’s cock rubs against the underside of his own. Finally. James doesn’t know Brenden has returned until he’s pushing James down against Brad with a hand to the centre of his back, while his other circles James’ hole. He gasps when he feels the cold lube hit his skin, but pushes back against Brenden’s fingers. Brenden takes the hint and wastes no time, he lets two fingers slip inside James’ body and starts to scissor him open. “Captain,” James mewls quietly, drawing the word out. “You’re so fucking cute,” Brad whines and pulls him down for a kiss, hands fisting in James’ hair.

A few moments later, James lets Brenden guide him down onto Brad’s cock, sliding slowly down the slicked length. He bites his lip to keep himself from making any more embarrassing noises; he tastes copper before he’s even fully seated. “Fuck, you’re tight,” Brad grits out before letting his head fall back against the wooden deck, mouth open. “Believe it or not, but I don’t do this often,” James manages between breathes. Brenden responds by pushing hard against his hips and causing James to sit down rapidly. “Fuck!” He sobs and drags blunt nails down Brad’s chest. He really isn’t used to this feeling. He’s so full. Somewhere in the background there are soothing words and touches on his body, but he ignores them and focuses on relaxing his body, slowly unclenching each muscle until he can roll his hips against Brad’s. The burn is still there, but it’s not necessarily painful. With part of the situation finally in his control, James sets a furious pace, wringing wanton moans from Brad with each roll. He rests his hands on Brad’s shoulder and leverages his hips up a bit so Brad can meet him on each thrust. At some point, Brenden had taken off his clothes, because his chest is chest in flush against James’ back, adding more heat and friction. He straddles Brad as well and ruts against them, his cock sliding along the cleft in James’ ass as he rises and falls on Brad’s cock. He kisses down James’ spline, lapping at the salty skin. It doesn’t take long before Brad’s thighs start to shake and his noises become clipped. “Come inside him Richie,” Brenden purrs into James’ ear, while looking Brad in the eye. He snaps his hips up once more and he coats James’ insides with strings of come while his fingers grip matching bruises into his friend’s thighs.

Brenden lifts James up and is pressing in before Brad has even came down. It earns a warranted groan from Brad, but James moans loudly when Brenden bottoms out, his hips flush against James’ ass. “You think you can talk to your Captain like that, Kid?” Brenden breathes into his ear. James shudders when the warm air hits the sweat on his neck. Even though Brenden is a bit thicker, the stretch isn’t too bad but Brad makes sure James feels it. He pushes James legs open until the younger winger hisses and drops his head to Brad’s shoulder. 

Brad knows without a doubt that he’s going to have a raw and angry rash on his back from the friction against the wood, but he doesn’t dwell on it – the view is well worth the price. James writhing on top of him and Brenden filling him up from behind. He can’t see Brenden’s cock slamming into James, but he can hear each time skin hits skin. He also knows Brenden didn’t slick himself up, that he’s using his come as lube. James lets out a string of loud moans against him, breath falling in waves over Brad’s shoulder as Brenden ramps up the pace. Brad rubs his hands over James’ thighs, up his sides and his back, reveling in the burn of the flushed and sweat soaked skin against his fingertips. His threads a hand in the winger’s hair and forces his head up so that they can share a kiss.

Brenden finds a rhythm and starts to punctuate each thrust, pulling out entirely before driving back in. James cries out wordlessly as his back bows involuntarily and he’s forced to sit up when Brenden’s cock finally brushes his prostate. Brenden reaches from behind and curves a hand around James’ throat, fingers tightening around the straining muscles. “Mo,” James hears Brad warn, the centre has realized how delicately they are toeing the line. “He can take it,” Brenden growls near his ear before he nips at the lobe. “He fucking loves it, look at him Richie.” James is panting, unable to catch his breath and not just because of the grip on his wind pipe, he is dripping sweat, entire body flushed and his cock has been leaking steadily onto Brad’s abdomen since Brenden entered him. If he were a bit younger, Brad knows his cock would be hard again already, but he settles for running his hands up James’ muscled stomach, purposefully avoiding his red and aching cock. 

Brenden lets go of his throat and places both hands on his hips to hold him steady and starts to thrust again, resuming the punishing pace they’d set before. James gets overwhelmed, too much stimulation in too many places and he can’t keep himself quiet anymore, he lets every noise out and doesn’t try to stop. He drops his head to his chest and lets both of the older men hold him up. When he feels the tingle start to spread through his body like sparks, he starts to arch up and pants, “I’m going to…” Brenden cuts him off, “No, you’re not.” Brad wraps a hand firmly around the base of James’ cock and holds him there on the edge. A sob racks through James’ frame, “Please, Captain,” he begs. “No James,” Brad answers and soothes up and down the younger man’s thigh with his free hand. When James makes to grab his neglected cock, Brenden quickly reaches and grabs both of his wrists, stopping him. He shifts forward slightly and that changes the angle enough so that hits James’ prostate every time. James starts to fight against the restraint, unable to stand the pressure anymore and that sends Brenden over. He bites hard enough to break the skin where neck meets shoulder as he comes buried deep in his teammate. 

Brenden goes slack as the spasms course through him and releases the young wingers wrists. James’ cries out and curls forward into himself, he comes harshly, even with Brad’s fingers still tight around the base of his cock. His come streaks across the tanned skin of Brad's stomach, decorating him with pearly strips. He bites off a sob as the orgasm continues to rip through his frame, but collapses forward, unable to hold himself up anymore. Brenden slides out carefully and climbs off Brad so that he can settle back in by his side. Brad leans over and they share a sloppy kiss, both too spent to do anything more. James finally starts to stir and he looks up at them both, eyes wide and unfocused. “Hey,” Brenden says and gently cups James’ jaw, thumb rubbing small circles at the hinge. James leans into the touch, letting his eyes slip closed briefly. He stretches out his stiff legs and rolls off Brad and onto his back between the two older men. They stay like that for a few breaths, until James sniffs at the air and sits up, “We forgot about the barbeque.”


End file.
